The Truth Hurts
by soexasperating
Summary: The Dursleys are the scum of the earth, Harry follows the rules instead of doing the right thing, and Snape wishes to Merlin that he started drinking earlier in the day.
1. Hungry? Why wait

Title: The Truth Hurts  
  
Author: SoExasperating (a.k.a. Hannya who can't remember her password to post this under her old author code)  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now thanks to language and a lack so far of sexuality of any kind. Don't worry, I'm getting there  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his friends, teachers, and enemies do not and have never belonged to me. Which sucks but with counciling and large intakes of Black Rasberry Avalance icecream and Pepsi (which also don't belong to me-dammit) I'm slowly learning to accept this.  
  
Summary: The Dursleys are the scum of the earth, Harry follows the rules instead of doing the right thing, and Snape wishes to Merlin that he started drinking earlier in the day. (A/N: My muse swore to me that this was funny and not just disturbing so I blame her)  
  
Chapter One: Hungry? Why wait?  
  
Harry Potter sat alone in his cupboard and weighed his options. Alright, well, after a summer of damn near dangerous 'chores' and 'punishments,' he was gaunt, bruised, and bloody. Check. Three days ago the Dursleys had left on Holiday (most likely to avoid any more run ins with Harry's 'freak' friends) and had 'forgotten' (and wasn't it just a sign of how screwy his life was that he kept having to put quotations in his own thoughts?) to unlock the cupboard. Check. It was now September 1st, the day he was to return to Hogwarts.  
  
Check.  
  
As Harry saw it, he could use his magic to bust out and make it to Kings Cross and therefore Hogwarts but that would lead to the Minsitry trying to expel him for underage magic. Plus, once he made it ot Hogwarts itself he'd probably be chided for his irresponsible use of magic and taking such risks with all those Deatheaters just hiding in bushes and waiting to pounce. Everyone would, once again, not notice the half-ass glamor charms hiding his sorry state or the instinctive flinch whenever someone tried to touch him.  
  
In fact, it was almost a certainty that Professor Snape would make some kind of comment about the rules not applying to the Golden Boy of Gryffindor leaving Harry so anger and frustrated at the unfairness of it all that he'd unconsciously blow up half said Potions Master's lab leading to a month of detentions where he'd be subjected to nightly speeches of how useless and aggravating everyone Harry loved was. Was, because they tended to be chronically dead.  
  
Honestly, it was just one big vicious cycle.  
  
Or...  
  
There was Option 2. Option 2 was an absolutely brilliant plan (Harry was unnaturally sure of it since he'd constructed it during one of his less than lucid moments during his forced fast) that involved absolutely no action on his part.  
  
He, Harry James Potter, was going to sit in his locked lightless cupboard until someone showed up to collect him or he starved. Yup, he was going to follow the rules or die trying.  
  
Take /that/, Professor Snape!  
  
And maybe, just maybe, whoever was eventually sent after his absentee self would see the way he lived (and quite possibly died) and he could know there was one person inthe world that understood the brutal honesty that was his life.  
  
Although he had the sinking feeling that the person sent would be the one he least wished to see him like this.  
  
It was a few hours later during what Harrry assumed was early evening that he decided he might just possibly be a seer. Ears sharpened from his isolation heard the familiar stalking footfall a bare second after Professor Snape apperated on the Dursley's front yard. Slightly giddy from hunger and hysteria, Harry giggled as he waited for the moody Potions Master to find him. In fact, if he tilted his head and squinted at it just so...he could pretend this was a really twisted version of Hide N' Seek.  
  
Or Harry Hunting but he wasn't one to quibble over details.  
  
Now, he just had to wait....  
  
TBC  
  
Okay, so it's kind of short but if you like review and I'll post the next chapter which is a little longer. Snape finds Harry and the fecal matter his the oscillating air mover. That crashing noise is your illusions crashing down... 


	2. Potions and Bartending

Title: The Truth Hurts

Author: SoExasperating (a.k.a. Hannya who can't remember her password to post this under her old author code)

Rating: PG-13 for now thanks to language and a lack so far of sexuality of any kind. Don't worry, I'm getting there

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his friends, teachers, and enemies do not and have never belonged to me. Which sucks but with counciling and large intakes of Black Rasberry Avalance icecream and Pepsi (which also don't belong to me-dammit) I'm slowly learning to accept this.

Summary: The Dursleys are the scum of the earth, Harry follows the rules instead of doing the right thing, and Snape wishes to Merlin that he started drinking earlier in the day. (A/N: Okay, I'm sorry about the wait -You reviewers are absolutely wonderful! If polygamy and same sex marriages were legal I'd propose to all of you!- but I was working on this chapter at work and then I moved it to a portable USB port to take to my home computer and, of course, the chapter gets deleted...Entirely...I spent three hours trying to find it on the work computer.)

Chapter Two: Bartending and and contrast

Severus Snape was having a Bad Day. Of course, the first day of classes was never something he looked forward to (a/n: chokes on understatement) but as he looked out over the Great Hall filled with yowling whining students but short one particular Boy-Who-Lived he could tell it was about to get a whole lot worse. 

The look on his face was enough to drop a Hufflepuff at 20 paces.

In fact, it did drop a Hufflepuff at 20 paces and half the table stared at the unconcious Susan Bones.

Because somehow, someway, he just knew that before the day was up Albus would have conned-er, persuaded him into hunting down the errant gryf-cub. At that thought, the Potions Master gave up and left the Hall to check about the school's policies on alcoholism and teaching. Surely it would be allowed. Afterall, just the thought of the next mornings classes made him want to challenge Hagrid to a drinking contest.

It was an unlucky chance that such actions gave the Headmaster the opportunity to corner him in the Reference Section.

"Severus, " the sneaky old coot began; pretending not to notice the iBartender's Handbook/i clutched in the professor's arms. "You're our only hope."

"What?!" He did not just hear Dumbledore say that. 

"I'm sorry but I need you to go retrieve Mr. Potter; I fear something unfortunate has delayed him. And, of course, you are the only one free that I can trust with such an assignment."

The younger man paused to translate the words through the Crazy Old Coot Filter. As far as he could make out, what the Headmaster really meant was, 'Of course I could send someone else but, well, they're busy and have lives where as you're about as social as an agrophobic hermit and I have this insane compulsion for you to suddenly discover human emotions again and see Mr. Potter as the son your purposefully never had. Besides, you know you're going to go anyway so why don't we skip the artful chessmatch of an arguement and get you on your way, Hm?'

He scowled and the older wizard merely smiled and let his trademark eye twinkle mock him silently.

"Sometimes I really really dislike you."

The smile grew wider, "There's a good chap. Off you go!"

Severus Snape wisely did not respond.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later (because you can only stall so long when you're using an almost instantaneous method of travel) and he stood on a lawn so meticulously tended it made the Queen's Garden look neglected. Potter's house, Number Four Privet Drive, looked like a duplicate of every other house on the street and yet he still got the feeling they were trying too hard.

He stalked to the pristine front door and rapped smartly.

No answer.

He knocked again before deciding that the Dursleys' ignored him at their own risk and spelled the bloody thing open. The inside seemed devoid of life, magic or muggle, and he honestly could not decide whether or not is was a negative thing.

Reminding himself that he was (/is/used to be, whatever) a Deatheater and therefore was not unnerved by a dark abandoned muggle house-

The Potions' Master paused as the faint sound of giggling drifted through the grave like silence. 

And, since his last psyche exam with Madam Pomphrey hadn't shown any indication of dementia-induced audio hallucinations (Paranoia, anger management, and control issues not withstanding), he had to assume that the hysterical sound was coming from someone else.

The sound, it turned out (after half an hour of very undignified searching and looking under tacky muggle furniture), was coming from what appeared to be a heavily fortified locked door to...a broom closet? Sitting innocently under the stairs with enough chains and guards to make even Hagrid's class safe. In fact, if it hadn't been for the muffled noise that grew stronger as he neared the cabinet, he'd swear Potter's muggle relatives were hiding the crown jewels. Yet, if it was Potter behind that little door than he sincerely doubted he was there for any kind of security.

Oh yes, something was very very wrong. 

"Potter," He ventured, not tentatively because Severus Snape was NEVER tentative. The giggles abruptly cut off and he could now make out the harsh uneven breathing of the closets occupant. "Potter, if that is you I suggest you answer because otherwise I may have to just Avada you on principle."

The harsh breathing broke into a puzzled gasp. "Professor?"

Only one person could be that clueless. Snape breathed out an 'Alohomora' and flung the door to the little cupboard open. Crouched inside, apparently also not having a good day, was one scrawny Gryffindor. The two stared at each other for a moment before the Potions Master heard himself say quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd said to date-

TBC  
I'm a bastard, I know.

Okay, this part is a little longer and hopefully is getting closer to the good stuff. The reviews, however, are what makes it aaaaaall worth it. 


	3. Could be worse

Title: The Truth Hurts

Author: SoExasperating

Rating: PG-13 for now thanks to language and a lack so far of sexuality of any kind. Don't worry; I'm getting there

Disclaimer: Well, I've been trying to get them on some kind of installment plan but JKR isn't answering any of my e-mails so for now I'm just kind of...um, borrowing them. In a non-profit or copyright infringement meant kind of way.

Summary: The Dursleys are the scum of the earth, Harry follows the rules instead of doing the right thing, and Snape wishes to Merlin that he started drinking earlier in the day. (A/N: I honestly have no clue how this thing took a serious turn. scratches head Oops?)

Chapter 3 : Worse things have happened… I think

previously

_"Potter, if that is you I suggest you answer because otherwise I may have to just Avada you on principle."_

The harsh breathing broke into a puzzled gasp. "Professor?"

Only one person could be that clueless. Snape breathed out an 'Alohomora' and flung the door to the little cupboard open. Crouched inside, apparently also not having a good day was one scrawny Gryffindor. The two stared at each other for a moment before the Potions Master heard himself say quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd said to date-  


"You aren't at Hogwarts."

Thrown off by his Professor's apparent non-sequiter it took a minute for Harry to respond, "How observant. Think about that one long, Professor?"

Snape, wisely, used the time he could have spent verbally tearing the Harry down for his inappropriately timed sarcasm to

catalogue the boys injuries. He was a mess, pale from his obvious imprisonment and even scrawnier (he hadn't thought it possible)

than before. That, however, looked to be the least of his problems. A dark bruise, the yellowing edges telling it's age, decorated one swelling cheek that, in turn, cradled an ugly blackened eye. There was a gash near his hairline that had left a gruesome dried blood streak that obscured the trademark scar...and that was just from the neck up.

"Dare I even ask what happened or should I simply get names so that Mutt godfather of yours can rip them apart?" The words were standard Snape fare but the quiet tone caused Harry to pause and blink warily at his savior. Apparently deciding that he

was too tired to lie or even distrust his least like professor he replied with a sigh. "Same old, same old."

"You know, that's what I was afraid of." Severus Snape was not, despite all appearances, a soulless creature from Hell. He may have detested children and the means by which he was made to teach them but he never _never_ wanted to hear that soul-weary voice from someone so young. Despite his unfortunate Potterness.

"How long were you in there?" Those glazed green eyes tried to focus on him again.

"Until you came along?"

"Don't act stupid now, Potter, how long since you were locked in that pitiful excuse for a coat closet?" Snape gritted out as he unobtrusively helped the boy out of said cupboard and to his feet. The younger wizard blinked for a minute.

"Seems like forever..."

'Okay, not a good time for getting a straight answer, ' Snape noted silently, 'Possibly delirious from the head wound?'

Temporarily lost in his thoughts, he resumed half dragging the broken child. "Well, try to remain conscious a little while longer, Potter. Once we're to past the front door we can apparate to right outside the wards of Hogwarts."

Still silent, Harry nodded and the strange pair staggered in unison through the entrance of number four Privet Drive before disappearing with a barely audible pop.

( A/N: I almost stopped here but, after such a long wait, I decided to make it an extra long chapter. Who loves ya, baby?)

Harry was unconscious by the time he'd been port keyed and hauled through the doors of the illustrious school. Severus only noticed when his burden became so much dead weight and paused to frantically check for a pulse. Relieved at the steady beat at the Boy Who Lived's wrist, he quickly cast a Revelo to make sure no was around to witness his actions before swinging the too light boy into his arms and striding quickly towards the Hospital Wing.

Oh yes, the fewer who saw this the better.

"Poppy!" Snape bellowed barely mindful of his precious burden, "Honestly, never here when you actually need the blasted woman..." He trailed off, however, as said 'blasted woman' emerged from a nearby bed curtain and cast him an extremely unamused glare.

"What now, Severus? Already cursed a first year, maybe? I must say, if so, you've finally beaten your old record. That was a week, wasn't it?"

"No, " Snape replied shortly before silently adding, 'But an excellent idea...' "Our resident celebrity needs your talents

again."

The nurse squinted closer at the rag-covered bundle that, even now, Severus was lowering to a bed. "Oh dear."

"Quite. I just collected him from his _family_," the sneer was audible at the word, "so if you could be so kind as to patch him back together while I have a few words with our esteemed Headmaster?"

"Of course, "She nodded an absent affirmative, already grabbing potions and salves for the patient. At that, Snape made for the door, glad to have passed on the safekeeping of the boy to another and almost didn't hear her call out after him. "And,Severus? If this truly was the work of those muggles than tell Albus he'll be hearing from me as well."

Acknowledging her words with a tip of his head, Severus Snape exited the Hospital wing, now simply relieved to not be the one on the good nurses bad list.

He was, quite surprisingly, unaccosted as he strode silently but purposefully for Dumbledore's office. Thoughts tumbled around his head at a furious pace as they fought to catch up with the recent revelations. By the time he was facing the old man's gargoyle guard, it had all boiled down to fury aided by a dangerous douse of personal guilt.

Guilt for not noticing the signs of abuse, which as Head of Slytherin he was unfortunately familiar with, and fury for Dumbledore's continued erratic and absent-minded care of the child. Even caught up in such dark thought, Snape was not shocked to hear the voices of the boy's friends politely but firmly demanding to know of his whereabouts. The Headmaster cut them off when his twinkling attention shifted totally to the Potions Master standing in his doorway. "Severus, have you collected Mr. Potter already?"

It was obvious from the man's buoyant mood that he was completely unforgivably ignorant as to the situation he'd sent Snape into earlier that day and the boy circumstance. "Yes, Headmaster, and if I might have a word about that with you in private..."

He did his best not to growl out his request, as it would serve no one to agitate the already frantic children further while still getting across the urgency of this meeting. It was apparent he succeeded a touch too well when Albus merely twinkled at him.  
"If it's about Mr. Potter than his friends would find out shortly either way."

"If you insist, Headmaster..." 'Dammit, this isn't something mere children should be hearing!'

"I'm afraid I must, my dear boy. Now, what is the news?"

It was the 'dear boy', in front of Gryffindors no less, that broke the fragile hold Snape had retained on his temper. "Before I tell you of young Mr. Potter's condition, might I inquire how often, if at all, you've checked on the boy?"

Dumbledore looked mildly puzzled and made to answer when his own employee rudely cut him off. "Don't bother. We both know damn well that you left him to his muggle relatives mercy and as good as forgot about him despite, I'm sure, being warned of their nature."

"Nature, Severus, "The older wizard encourage, eyes becoming harder as the Potions Masters tone became more biting and harsh.

"Magic phobic, hateful, abusive wastes of oxygen. _That_ nature, Headmaster. And if they hadn't already ruined their childhood with their lies and treatment, maybe you can explain the exact circumstances that lead to you _sending him back_ every summer since. I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are equally curious."

Both Gryffindors had paled drastically at the beginning of this speech but it was the hollow realization in Granger's eyes, her muggle upbringing allowing her to connect the dots between 'abusive' and 'Harry' that gave Severus the slightest pause. He meant what he, um, thought earlier. This wasn't something even these idiots deserved to hear.

Dumbledore, twinkle almost entirely dim at this point, stared as his Potions Master with an intent expression. "What exactly are you implying, Severus?"

Snape glanced once more at the white faces of the boys friends. "I'm implying as to the cause behind my own finding of Potter beaten near to death and starved in a muggle cupboard earlier today. A cupboard, I might add, well inside his overly warded relatives home."

"You're saying his relatives hit him."

"Repeatedly, unless some other Muggles broke in and assaulted him continuously withholding food. " He continued with no small amount of exasperation. He'd barely said his peace and the conversation had already drained him. "Albus, there were no traces of any other magical beings besides Potter or myself for quite sometime."

The Headmaster nodded absently, dwelling on the younger wizards word and their consequences.

"Professor?" Granger had found her voice, "Is Harry going to be alright?"

"That remains to be seen but he is in Madam Pomphrey's care right now, "Snape answered, almost kindly now that a good part of his frustrated rage had been released.

"Yes, yes, no need to be alarmed. You understand how talented our Madam Pomphrey is at fixing up Mr. Potter, "Dumbledore spoke, collecting himself noticeably and shooting the students a reassuring smile. The look of desperate hope on Weasley's face was just pathetic in the Slytherin's eyes. However, his blind trust was not reflected in his female friend. Granger frowned, "May we visit him then, Sir?"

"That's up to Madam Pomphrey, I'm afraid. In fact, I believe Severus and I should be heading there now. I'll be sure to

ask on your account." One grandfatherly gesture later and he had ushered the two children out the door and towards the tower.

The gargoyle closed and Dumbledore took the moment to look deeply into a pair of onyx eyes. There was the push of Occlumency and Severus let the man see everything from the moment he entered Privet Drive until he reached his office, a picture does tell a thousand words after all.

A second later and the Headmaster was again composing himself, this time with eyes full of shame and remorse. "Well than, Severus, maybe we should actually be heading to see Mr. Potter now." Snape eyed the older wizard thoughtfully. He didn't regret his words or in allowing the man to view his memories of an occasion that he knew would haunt him as well but...kicking him when he was down was a little low, even for a Slytherin. He nodded and the two headed away from his office and towards the waiting Infirmary.

TBC

A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful divine reviewers who I would personally reply to if I could get to my reviews (my roommate is hogging the Internet. I barely got to upload this.) Either way, I hope the slightly longer chapter and uncharacteristic drama made up for it in someway. Cheers! 


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